The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 5 of 9] · William Shakespeare
SCENE I. _Westminster Abbey_.
_Enter a_ Messenger. _Mess._ My honourable lords, health to you all! [aaa057] Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture: Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans, [aaa060] Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. _Bed._ What say’st thou, man, before dead Henry’s corse? [aaa062] Speak softly; or the loss of those great towns Will make him burst his lead and rise from death. _Glou._ Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up? [aaa065] If Henry were recall’d to life again, These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. _Exe._ How were they lost? what treachery was used? _Mess._ No treachery; but want of men and money. Amongst the soldiers this is muttered, ·aaa070· That here you maintain several factions, And whilst a field should be dispatch’d and fought, You are disputing of your generals: One would have lingering wars with little cost; Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings; ·aaa075· A third thinks, without expense at all, [aaa076] By guileful fair words peace may be obtain’d. Awake, awake, English nobility! [aaa078] Let not sloth dim your honours new-begot: Cropp’d are the flower-de-luces in your arms; [aaa080] Of England’s coat one half is cut away. _Exe._ Were our tears wanting to this funeral, These tidings would call forth their flowing tides. [aaa083] _Bed._ Me they concern; Regent I am of France. Give me my steeled coat. I’ll fight for France. [aaa085] Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes, [aaa087] To weep their intermissive miseries.
_Enter to them another_ Messenger. _Mess._ Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance. [aaa089] France is revolted from the English quite, ·aaa090· Except some petty towns of no import: The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims; The Bastard of Orleans with him is join’d; [aaa093] Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part; [aaa094] The Duke of Alençon flieth to his side. [aaa095] _Exe._ The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! [aaa096] O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? _Glou._ We will not fly, but to our enemies’ throats. Bedford, if thou be slack, I’ll fight it out. _Bed._ Gloucester, why doubt’st thou of my forwardness? ·aaa100· An army have I muster’d in my thoughts, Wherewith already France is overrun. _Enter another_ Messenger. _Mess._ My gracious lords, to add to your laments, [aaa103] Wherewith you now bedew King Henry’s hearse, I must inform you of a dismal fight ·aaa105· Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French. _Win._ What! wherein Talbot overcame? is’t so?
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.